


Stupid Teens

by tihsho



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bullying, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Slurs Warning, cute stuff, it's my first fic so I don't know how tags work, yikes this sounds kinda dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-08 06:16:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21471400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tihsho/pseuds/tihsho
Summary: Will likes getting gifts, and Nico likes the way Will blushes whenever he gives him anything. It should be a simple situation, but nothing's ever simple for Nico. Something's bothering Will, and Nico can't do anything about it. Never mind that he still can't seem to put a name to these feelings, either. Maybe there's a point in here about anger and nuance, or maybe it's a point about being young, or self acceptance, or whatever else. Or maybe Nico's just reading into it too much.
Relationships: Nico di Angelo/Will Solace
Comments: 19
Kudos: 159





	Stupid Teens

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fic ever! i think this is a great way to practice writing and i appreciate any feedback or criticism whatsoever. don't pull any punches.
> 
> i wanted to write a short little thing about, like, gifts as a love language, but i ended up projecting all my personal gay angst onto this and giving it A Moral. whoops.

It sort of starts… stupidly. Utterly stupidly. Not that there’s an it, of course. It’s just a casual thing. Friends, being friends, as friends do. Absolutely not noticing how nicely the other one blushes.  


It starts like this: Nico’s out hunting a pack of empousai at a county fair. The empousai are an easy fight, nothing special, a couple of sword slashes and a couple piles of dust. That’s not _it. It_ is what Nico finds on his way out, hanging in a carnival game booth: the worst, most horrendous object he’s ever encountered. It’s a huge stuffed banana with dead felt eyes and a rastafarian hat. It has _lips_. It’s about six feet long, and it’s so unlike anything Nico has ever seen and so undeniably horrible that he loses it right there. He doesn’t know why, but he’s absolutely sobbing, doubled down with laughter, and it takes him minutes of finally straightening up and then seeing the fucking banana again and collapsing back into hysterics before he calms down enough to actually win the thing. He’s certain the worker there thinks he’s insane, and he probably is, at this point. But he’s got enough accuracy now that throwing a few darts to pop some balloons five feet away is a breeze, and then the thing’s rightfully his and it doesn’t matter what anybody thinks anymore. It’s the worst thing he’s ever owned and he struggles to stop thinking about it long enough to actually shadow travel himself back home.  


However. However, however. He ends up back in his cabin, and he realizes it isn’t going to work. Absolutely does not match the dark-and-broody aesthetic he’s got going on here. No room among the vampire coffins for the rastafarian banana, and what a shame it is. He loves the mortal world, solely because of things like this.  


He can’t just get rid of it. He _earned_ it, dammit. He considers: who is going to appreciate the complete irredeemability of this object as much as he does? Who’s weird enough? He thinks maybe Percy, but he’s not going to touch _giving things_ to Percy with a ten foot pole until at least six months after the whole _confession_ thing. Eugh.  


Then comes a knock at the door. Three quick, light raps, as always. He hates that he can tell who it is. He’s not going to think about that. And he’s not going to think deeply about how they share the same humor. That’s a surface level consideration and it starts and ends with _he better lose his mind over this fucking banana too or I’m never speaking to him again._  


That might be for the best, not speaking to him again, but hope is a sticky thing and sometimes Nico can’t tell which way he wants it to go.  


He opens the door, and there’s Will Solace, blinding him with bright eyes and his usual megawatt smile. And Nico’s slightly self-satisfied, now, because he’s finally found a way to match Will’s insufferable happy energy in the form of an absolutely terrible (and possibly racist) stuffed six-foot banana.  


He’s so self-satisfied it takes him a moment to notice that the smile is not as bright as it usually is. In the kilowatts, maybe, not mega.  


“Hi, Nico!” Will chimes from the front step. “Have you eaten yet?”  


Still, Nico notices fast enough for the first thing out of his mouth to be, “Is something wrong?”  


Will blinks, and the smile fades a little more. “Um. No?”  


It’s a question, but Nico nods, accepting it without dropping Will’s gaze. “Okay.”  


Will sticks the tip of his tongue through his teeth - it’s a habit of his that Nico has noticed, unfortunately because his gaze tends to wander to Will’s mouth anyway. “So… food?”  


Nico nods, then jolts as he remembers. He pushes his smile down. “Hold on. Hold on,” he says, going back into the cabin. He grabs the banana as Will squints in confusedly from the door. God, this is so stupid. But it’s just to fucking _funny_ to him.  


He steps back into the light and holds the banana out at arms length like Simba in The Lion King. It barely lasts a second, though, before he’s shaking with laughter. The banana coupled with the utterly confused look on Will’s face, it’s too much for him. He’s destroyed.  


“This is so stupid,” he forces out. “This is the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”  


“It’s disgusting.” A nonsensical smile is spreading across Will’s face. “So you… you bought it?”  


“I won it. I had to.” Nico shoves the banana toward Will. “It’s yours now. It’s for you.”  


Will stumbles, unprepared. He wraps his arms around the thing and stairs at Nico, still smiling, but not really in the way Nico expected. His nose is red.  


Nico’s laugh peeters of. “What?”  


Will shakes his head. “I just… I’ve never really seen you… be stupid before. And you’ve never… given me anything?”  


“It’s not stupid. You should be honored,” Nico says. “It’s my prized possession.”  


Will looks down, grinning. “I am,” he says.  


Nico steps out to join him, closing the cabin door behind him, and starts to walk toward the pavillion. “Treasure it.”  


“You’re a teenager, you know?” Will says, following behind, clinging to the banana. “It’s weird.”  


“Technically, I’m a senior citizen.”  


Will shakes his head like he’s had some kind of revelation. “No, you’re a teenager.”  


Nico frowns. “And?”  


“And you gave me something funny.”  


“Keep it up and I’ll give you more.”  


Will glances at him. “I wouldn’t mind that.”  


The pavillion’s full by the time they get there. They stop at the edge, and Nico looks at Will again. He laughs.  


“What?”  


“It’s just… it’s so fucking bad.”  


WIll grins.  


They part ways, Will to the bustling Apollo table and Nico to… his own. Jason and Percy aren’t there yet, so he’s flying solo for a bit. Which is fine. Except the temptation to stare at Will or to go over and _be near him_ is harder to ignore.  


He pinches himself. _Stop it_. He and Will are friends - they’re good friends now, after weeks of Will pushing. Nico doesn’t know why he bothers, but he’s invested now. Not that he harbors any illusions about what would happen if he happened to mention what he might be feeling. Maybe he’s okay with _it_ now, just a little bit, but that doesn’t mean everybody else is. And, besides, Will’s a clean guy. A little snippy sometimes, but straight-laced. He doesn’t know Nico well enough yet to forgive this kind of _stuff_, the _feelings-for-people-he-shouldn’t-have-feelings-for_ stuff, not like Annabeth and Percy. He gets the feeling Will’s a little uncomfortable with the whole thing, anyway. Squirmy. One of Will’s sisters made some comment about them being an _old married couple_ once and Will didn’t look Nico in the eye for the rest of the day. He skirts around the subject of boys and boys in general whenever it come up, even when the rest of his Apollo siblings seem to bring it up constantly - which is a new thing in itself that Nico isn’t exactly used to. But he just had to go for the guy from Texas, didn’t he?  


So he’s staring down at his sandwich and trying to keep his mind blank. But then, he doesn’t know, something makes him look up - something beyond the other something that he doesn’t really want to name. This is more of an intuition. He looks up, and he sees Will, and he sees this… expression on his face. Nico doesn’t know what it is, but it doesn’t have any watts at all. A glare, maybe, but Will Solace doesn’t _glare_. It doesn’t fit. He’s glaring at some kid at the Ares table. Kid isn’t really the word. Hulk. The guy’s glaring back. Nico doesn’t recognize him, but he should probably make an effort to because he really doesn’t like the way this guy’s looking at his Will.  


Will eventually breaks the staring contest and looks back down at his food. He looks tired, defeated, and something else. Something familiar. Maybe self-effacing. It’s not a good look.  


And the look sort of sticks around. Nico sees Will elsewhere throughout the day, passing him as he walks between cabins, offering tips as Will fails utterly at swordfighting. Will smiles, but his eyes are dark. No, not a good look at all.  


Nico would talk to him about it, but the thing is that Nico would never talk to anyone about anything to do with _feelings_, so he doesn’t. He trusts Will’s siblings to handle it.  


The next day, though, it’s obvious that they don’t. Will actually doesn’t even come to Nico’s door to make him eat lunch. So Nico has to take things into his own hands. Except, again, these are not hands that he uses to lift spirits except in the absolutely literal sense. So he just kind of… watches, and festers.  


He doesn’t like this at all. Curse him and his stupid heart.  


Stupid. He remembers the banana.  


Specifically, he remembers how red Will’s nose got when Nico gave it to him. He remembers his little smile.  


So he volunteers to go out and kill some hellhounds terrorizing Brooklyn, and after spending far too long trying to find something reasonable to give, he comes back with a black cord necklace with a metal sun pendant. It’s a little on the nose and it’s a little, well, jewelry, but he’s desperate. He doesn’t think Will minds those kinds of things, at least.  


He knocks at the Apollo cabin’s door. It’s an odd little role reversal, and the girl who opens the door looks shocked and healthily scared when she sees him there. But Will absolutely _beams_ when he sees Nico there and it’s even worse because he’s sitting on his bed _with his arms wrapped around the fucking rasta banana_. Like he’s cuddling it. And there’s an implication there that he’s been sleeping with it _in his bed_ and that’s just absolutely devastating. Will’s still smiling despite the monstrous situation he’s put Nico in and Nico has to scowl and scuff the ground with his foot to avoid facing it. Because that would be horrible.  


It’s even worse when he submits himself, as they’re walking, to the ordeal of giving the pendant to Will. He brushes it off, trying to seem cool, like “Oh, I just saw it while I was out and it reminded me of you,” not like he spent more than an hour trying to find a good gift.  


Will’s reaction is still absolutely too much. It’s in a different way, though. A more painful way. At first, Will just stares at the pendant in his hands. Then he looks up at Nico, this _genuine_ look in his eyes, _disgusting_, and he says, “You really got this for me?”  


“Well, yeah,” Nico says, disgusting, awkward. “That’s why I gave it to you.”  


“I… I don’t know what to say, actually.” Will sounds kind of fragile, but he keeps looking at Nico with this small-but-full smile even though Nico is not looking at him. “Thank you.”  


“Okay, okay. Cut it out.”  


“It means a lot. It’s sweet.”  


Nico’s blushing, and it’s repulsive. “I am _not_ sweet. I’ll return it.” It’s an empty threat.  


“Hm.” Will is kind of quiet, and suddenly Nico’s nerves are on fire. _Is he uncomfortable?_ Nico has to look up.  


Will’s not uncomfortable. He’s holding up the little pendant, the cord wrapped around his fingers. He catches Nico looking and pulls it over his head, tucking it into his shirt, where it’ll hang close to his heart and no one else will see it. Oof. The bridge of his nose is red, a delicate blush around his smattering of freckles. He meets Nico’s eye. Oof.  


Nico’s certain he’s turned the color of a firetruck. He looks down and kicks a rock on the ground, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Well,” he says, “you’re welcome, I guess. Don’t expect it to be a regular thing.”  


Will smiles. It’s not really a smile for Nico, or for anyone else, like his big smiles usually are. No, this one is small, closed-lipped. Private. Unintentional.  


It’s a very pretty smile.  


Nico is going to die.  


But that doesn’t stop him from buying Will one of those little solar-powered dancing flowers next time he goes out. He doesn’t mean to. It’s just so damn cute.  


Will puts it in the infirmary window.  


Nico starts being the one to get Will to go to lunch, which is kind of mortifying because now the excuse that it’s just Will forcing him to go eat doesn’t hold up. And there’s the added bonus of Will’s siblings. Which is great. He loves the way they all stare at him like he’s covered in sewage and monster blood whenever he shows up. It doesn’t make him feel uncomfortable or anything.  


He waits until he and Will are out of view to give Will things. He really needs to stop this. He doesn’t have much money, and he’s given Will four things within about ten days. At this rate, he’ll be broke. He spent twenty bucks on this new sun-painted mug, gods’ sakes. And that’s not to mention how bad this must all be for his racing heart. He’s anemic. He doesn’t need the stress of watching a blush slowly appear on Will’s nose. Absolutely not. He’ll probably die.  


One of the siblings, though, Kayla, pulls him aside one day before Will gets to the door. She’s older and a bit taller than Nico and he doesn’t like the look she’s giving him.  


“You better not mess it up, okay?” she says fiercely, and Nico doesn’t know how to respond.  


“Um,” he says, articulately.  


“I don’t know how much you know about his family life or where he grew up,” she says, crowding him, “but this really isn’t easy for him. Plus all the shit he’s going through with that jackass Neil. I need to know you’re not just… joking around.”  


“I don’t really joke,” Nico says, shifting back, “but I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  


Kayla stares, eyes narrow, then nods. “Hm. Okay.”  


“Okay?”  


“You and Will. It’s okay.”  


Nico blanches. “What?”  


She straightens up, out of his space. “I don’t know where you are right now with that, but it’s okay. You’re taking it seriously. You don’t have to worry about outing him to us. We already know. But I like you protecting him. That’s trustworthy.”  


“I’m sorry,” Nico stamers, “but I think you’ve got something wrong. Me and Will - look, I’m not implying that you’re implying anything. Nothing to imply. But if you were, you’re wrong.”  


Kayla cuffs him on the shoulder, winks, and then changes attitude so quickly that Nico can only blink in the face of it. “Okay, if you want to play it that way. But, hey, A+ job so far, making him feel special. He’s an Apollo kid, of course. Loves attention. We all do. Gifts and attention. We like to know you’re thinking about us.” She smiles again, and then Will appears from the bathroom, and by the time Nico’s done staring at his mussed-up hair and smile Kayla’s integrated herself back into the group of Apollo kids very uncasually standing around in the corner of the cabin farthest from Nico.  


“Sorry I’m late,” Will says, charmingly, “somebody vomited on my other shirt.”  


Nico follows him out the door like a lost puppy. “I don’t mind.”  


His mind’s reeling, actually, with everything Kayla said. He wants to think that he’s confused, that he doesn’t get what she was saying, that he’s oblivious - but he doesn’t believe that. He got the meaning. Unless he’s being screwed over again by his signature optimism. Maybe "outing" has a different connotation than he thought. Or maybe it doesn’t. He’s not sure which one he wants to be true.  


“Well, thanks for waiting,” Will says. He looks casual and cool in the afternoon sun. The opposite of how Nico feels. “And for coming to get me in the first place, actually. I’ve had a hard day. Mainly because of the vomit.”  


_We like to know you’re thinking about us_ replays inconveniently in Nico’s head.  


“I like walking with you,” Nico says. Will smiles at him. It’s pretty. Will smiles a lot, but Nico finds himself wishing he would smile more. He remembers something. “Hey, um. Kayla mentioned something before you came out.” He could go in a million directions with this, but only one is possible for him right now. “She mentioned you’ve got some stuff going on. With somebody named Neil. Is he giving you trouble?”  


Will’s mouth is suddenly a thin line.  


Nico thinks he shouldn’t have asked, but he doesn’t backtrack.  


“It’s complicated,” Will says finally. “Don’t worry about it.”  


Nico nods.  


Will continues to defend himself, though. “I can fight my own battles,” he says.  


Nico wasn’t aware of any battle, but he understands the feeling. “I know.” He doesn’t push.  


Somebody else does.  


The Ares hulk is leaving the pavilion, and as he passes by he cuffs Will’s shoulder with his own. His own shoulder is the size of a shipping container, though, so it makes Will stumble back.  


“Oh, sorry,” the guy says, not sounding sorry at all. Nico’s already giving Neil a glare when he follows it with a word, under his breath, into Will’s ear, that sets Nico’s blood on fire. “_Faggot_.”  


It’s so unexpected. That’s the thing. Nico hasn’t heard that word in camp, only out on the streets or in his old school. Here, it’s like a punch in the face. And Nico doesn’t take punches without returning them.  


He whirls to face the guy as he walks away, ground already trembling beneath him. “The fuck did you just say?” There’s fire in his head, rage, and it’s not even because he’s gay because if it was just him he would be scared or upset. No, it’s because that fucker said it to Will, and nobody is allowed to pull that shit-  


He feels a firm grip on his arm, pulling him back from the hell he’s about to unleash. It’s Will. He’s not looking at him.  


“Leave it, Nico,” he growls. “Come on.”  


It surprises Nico enough that some of the fire stops pounding in his head. He stares. “What?”  


“Leave it.”  


“Will-”  


“It’s not worth the effort.”  


Nico shakes his head, incredulous. “You’re letting him get away with saying that shit to you?” He has no right to ask, because he’d do the same if it was him, but it isn’t him. It’s Will.  


Will’s voice rises, even though he’s struggling to sound calm. “He says shit like that all the time. It’s no big deal. He’s new here, he just has it out for me for some reason. It’ll pass. You don’t need to do anything for me.” His face scrunches up. “And I’m _not_ gay.”  


Nico blinks, anger sputtering out, and pretends that didn’t slap him. “That’s still not okay,” he stammers. “Either way.”  


“I _look_ gay, don’t I?” Will goes on, a little manically. “The jeans and probably the- chapstick? My eyelashes or something? And I don’t know how to fight. And I wear necklaces.”  


This is hitting Nico like a freight train. He can’t talk in the face of it. But his world is tipping. He doesn’t understand this sting, especially not from Will.  


“Why did you give me that?” Will continues, almost shouting, hands in his hair. “Why are you around me? You aren’t making this any easier!”  


Nico glances toward the nearby pavillion, suddenly aware of a potential audience. But nobody seems to be looking. The deafening chatter is working in their favor. Still, he forces out, “Will, you’re making a scene.”  


Will digs the palms of his hands into his eyes. He might be crying. Nico doesn’t think he should look. “I’m sorry,” Will says. “I’m sorry. Really. Please ignore me.”  


Nico reaches out to touch his shoulder. “Will-”  


Will jerks away as if his touch burns. “Don’t touch me,” he snaps. “I’m not worth protecting.”  


He sniffs and whirls around, striding back toward the cabins. Nico watches helplessly as he leaves. There’s a sting in his chest, and behind his eyes. He doesn’t want to think about why. But he does. _He would hate to be like you_, Nico thinks. _He thinks it’s disgusting_. He thinks about what Will listed off. Nico knows how to fight. He doesn’t wear chapstick. He does wear jeans, though. He thinks, _is it obvious?_ He wonders why guys like Neil haven’t said anything to him before. He wonders if Camp Half-Blood is such a haven after all.  


He doesn’t feel like food. Percy and Jason might worry if he doesn’t appear, but it doesn’t matter. Will would be mad at him, usually, for not eating. But he doubts Will cares now. He heads back toward his cabin.  


He notices something gleaming in the grass about halfway there. He kneels to pick it up. It’s the metal sun pendant. The cord is ripped.  


Will doesn’t want his help, or his protection, or even his attention. Will doesn’t want gifts. Nico’s body is buzzing. He picks up the pendant.  


Will doesn’t want _him_.  


He wants to scream.  


_This is why_, he thinks. _This is why you hide. It’ll never turn out well for people like you. Never._  


He can’t even think the word anymore, not high on protective anger.  


He’s suddenly so angry with himself. Disgusted. The points of the pendant dig into his hand. _You’re fucking gay. That’s what you are. You’re a coward. You’re disgusting. _He raises his hand and throws the metal sun as far as he can. It isn’t very far, but it works.  


He wants to run away. He can’t be bothered. He goes to his cabin and flops down onto the floor. He thinks of Will saying _you’ll have wrinkles by the time you’re thirty if you keep scowling like that._ He thinks about old married couples. He thinks about thinking maybe he’d be thirty with Will. But Will’s not gay. So.  


Neil. Neil and Will. Kind of the same. It’s all a fucking joke. Nico can’t trust anyone, can he?  


Maybe he falls asleep. Maybe he just stalls.  


Still, it feels like only a few minutes have passed before he hears a knock on his door. His fool heart leaps for a moment, but when he opens the door, he sees that it’s only Jason. He sucks for being disappointed, but he’s in a mood.  


“Hey, dude,” Jason says. Nico doesn’t like that kind, soft tone in his voice. It’s Jason being delicate with him. He hates that.  


“What do you want.”  


“I just wanted to get you for dinner.” Nico isn’t even surprised by how time has seemed to skip. He just keeps glaring. Jason doesn’t even squirm, the bastard. “I heard you and Will got in a fight.”  


Nico sets his jaw. “Will, who,” he says. “It’s nothing.”  


Jason blinks. “Are you okay?”  


“He’s an asshole. That’s what I learned today.” Nico scowls. “I’m sick of assholes. I’m sick of everybody.”  


“I hope that doesn’t include Percy and me,” Jason says levelly. “Come sit with us.”  


“Percy’s kind of an asshole.”  


“He’s just clueless.” Jason squints. “Is this about… a specific kind of asshole, with a specific kind of belief about a specific kind of people?”  


Perceptive. Nico sighs. “In a less roundabout way, yes. No, I don’t want to talk about it.”  


Jason frowns. “Will? Are you sure?”  


“Listen. _He_’s sure. If you heard how… _aggressively_ he denied being… well, it, you wouldn’t be surprised.” Nico steps out onto the grass. “Let’s just go eat.”  


“If I recall, you denied it pretty aggressively, too,” Jason says. “I seem to remember some cracks to the underworld involved.”  


Nico scoffs. “Don’t try to cheer me up.”  


“I’m not. I’m just saying. I don’t know much about Texas, but I’m pretty sure it can seem like the forties sometimes.”  


Nico stares. _I’m not worth protecting_.  


Jason shrugs. “I just wouldn’t be sick of Will Solace so soon.”  


Nico clenches his fists. “Well, then I’m just sick of all the other assholes in the world, Jason!” he snaps. “My life doesn’t revolve around Will.”  


“Okay.”  


Maybe it’s both of them who should be sick, if it’s really true that Nico’s not the only one of them who came from a dark place. “I’m sick of it all in my own right. I’m sick of people like that bastard Neil. I’m sick of people like me and maybe Will fucking hating ourselves because of them! I hate feeling like a freak! I hate feeling like I’m disgusting. I just want to be normal. I want to be a stupid teenager and give him gifts and not hate myself for loving the way he blushes.”  


Jason looks Nico in the eyes. “Well. I think that’s justified, then.”  


Nico lets out a breath. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”  


“I think you should talk to Will,” Jason says, then grins. “And I think you should kick whoever Neil is right in his ugly ass.”  


Nico looks at him. “Damn right.”  


He walks with his head up, thinking that if anybody looks at him wrong they’re going to get an eyefull of ghosts. He doesn’t know why anybody would look at him any different than they usually do. But _he_’s different. He feels different. It’s an ugly feeling, but a good one.  


He wonders if the feeling could ever be Will’s. It’s hard to imagine Will ever letting anyone put him down. But maybe it’s not that. Maybe it’s that Will doesn’t let himself be put down. It’s an important distinction when that tolerance reaches its limit.  


And there’s another distinction: he doesn’t have to be angry at Neil because of what he said to Will. That sucks, of course. But he’s angry at Neil because he could’ve said that to anyone - could’ve hurt anyone for who knows how long without them saying anything. Nico wanted, or wants, or whatever in between, to give Will the world. But it’s also kind of about Nico and the things he shouldn’t have to put up with in his own head.  


He’s the ghost king. Gods dammit.  


He’s not angry at Will anymore. He doesn’t think so, at least. He’s not not angry. This isn’t a resolution to the darkness inside of him. But he has a right to anger. He has a right to turn it away from himself and toward the world that made him think that’s what he’s supposed to do.  


He doesn’t know if he expects Will to be in the pavillion for dinner. He is. Nico’s not surprised. Will knows how to put on a mask, he thinks. That’s something a lot of people have had to learn.  


Nico’s not putting on a mask. He’s wearing his heart in his eyes this time. And his heart is angry, a concentrated beam no longer warped inward. It’s a righteous anger. The kind that’s fueled by something other than his soul, that won’t burn him up.  


He sees Neil, at the Ares table. Laughing like he belongs there. Maybe Neil hates himself. Nico doesn’t know. It’s not his business to know and it doesn’t affect him.  


Maybe Nico doesn’t hate Neil. Maybe he hates the world Neil lives in. Is that forgiveness? Is that the moral high ground? Nico thinks it’s supposed to feel like resolution. He’s not sure it does.  


Jason puts a hand on Nico’s arm and pulls him to the table. He’d been standing, surveying. Couldn’t Jason see how righteous he was being?  


It kind of sours. Jason’s a righteous man. Nico’s a teenager. With a right to be angry.  


He watches Neil and wonders if he’s going to forgive him or if he’s going to follow him back to his cabin and give him the scare of his life, zombies and skeletons and the works. Neil stands, and he has this look in his eye that makes Nico tense and think the choice has already been made for him.  


Neil stands with a self-satisfied grin that makes Nico’s skin crawl. Like he’s watching a ship sink from land, where he can do nothing, Nico watches Neil make his way across the pavillion.  


Unable to act, he watches Will instead, unaware, picking at his food, looking out of place among his raucous half-brood. The other Apollo kids poke at him, try to cheer him up. Nico wonders what Kayla thinks of all this, or if she knows at all. He doubts she would’ve let it go on if she did know. _I’m not worth protecting_.  


He stands, even though it’s too late and Neil’s already there. Jason looks up at him, confused, but Nico brushes him off and makes his way toward the pair. He sees the look on Will’s face, that deadly concoction of guilt and fear and deprecation, and thinks he can forget forgiveness, maybe he shouldn’t, but he will. He moves slowly, silently, like the shadow sweeping over the earth behind the reach of the sun. He’s mastered this approach. A death march. Not his own. Slow and inevitable. Hush follows him in a wave. He can revel in being the monster if he wants. If it’s Will.  


He can see Will’s expression getting darker and darker as Neil talks to him. He stands. He’s starting to gather up his plate, decidedly ignoring Neil’s abuse. The Apollo table is silent, mostly in shock, from what Nico can see. He can hear Neil talking now. Addressing all of them, that twisted smirk on his face, increasingly desperate for a rise out of Will.  


“A whole cabin of fucking queers,” Neil spits. “You know, I kind of like what the monsters were doing. Picking you off, counselor by counselor. One by one.”  


There’s a flash, just a frozen second, where Nico sees another mirror on Will’s face. He sees himself again, but not the self-hatred. The anger. The protectiveness. And Nico sees that the impulse bypasses Will’s brain completely and goes straight to his body before he can think it through, blessedly free of guilt or inhibition. Will whirls around and socks Neil straight in the nose. A burst of blood flies through the air, quickly followed by a rippling gasp.  


“Ow!” Will’s first reaction is to curl protectively around his hand. By the time he’s processed that it’s not his first priority, Neil has already straightened up and wiped some of the blood from his face, though he’s only really smeared it around. His face is painted red and he has a look in his eyes like a mad bull. Will has a look in his eyes like oh, shit. Neil rears back for his own punch.  


But it doesn’t land, because Nico’s on him before he even starts to move. A swift kick to the ribs, a sword hilt to the neck, and a newly risen skeleton dragging on each arm is enough to bring the asshole down. It’s wickedly satisfying.  


It’s also wickedly satisfying when, a second later, vines explode from the floor beneath him, a magic spell crackles around his fist, and a lightning bold cracks just where his head used to be. All eyes are on Neil, and there seem to be a dozen other spells, weapons, and fists primed in his direction.  


Wisely, he stays down.  


Nico thinks there’s something for forgiveness, but there’s also something for taking a bitch down. And he thinks, maybe, looking around, there are a couple less assholes around than he thought.  


Chiron speeds over and starts asking questions. Clarisse appears to wrench Neil up by the arm, already shouting, and Nico’s sure he’s going to have hell to pay later and a lot of education to sit through. The Apollo kids are all up and shouting, even though Nico’s not sure who they’re shouting at. He takes a backseat to the chaos.  


He turns to Will, who’s staring down in shock, and takes his arm. He pulls him away from the crowd, and Will lets himself be led. At a satisfactory distance, out in the darkness beyond the pavillion, Nico stops and releases Will’s arm.  


“Well,” he says, “you said you wanted to fight your own battles. I think this was mostly you.”  


Will looks up at him, blinks, and half-smiles with his tongue between his teeth. His face is pale and his eyes are wide, but he seems at least partly okay. “It stopped being ‘my battle’ when that asshole started talking about my siblings.”  


Nico nods. “Valid.”  


Suddenly, Will looks up, sighing hard and running a hand through his hair. “This sucks.”  


“Mm.”  


“I really punched a guy.”  


“Yup.”  


“I’m stupid. What happened to _do no harm?_”  


“You’re stupid and dramatic, yeah, but so are we all. We’re fifteen.” Nico lowers his voice. “He deserved it, though.”  


Will glances at him. “...You think so?”  


Nico shrugs. “Pretty much. You could make an argument that it’s all society’s fault for making him that way, I guess, but we can’t exactly punch society.”  


Will’s staring at him now. “Is that… how you feel…?”  


Nico looks at him, confused. “You’re the one who punched him, dude. And about that - remind me to teach you how to punch someone. You can’t keep doing it like that or you’re going to break your thumb.”  


“But… You still want to, like, hang out with me? And teach me how to punch people?”  


“Are you deaf?”  


Will exhales slowly. “I just. I don’t know. I thought you’d… react badly.”  


“To what?”  


Will purses his lips and hesitates a moment. “Well. It’s all out the open now, if it wasn’t already. There’s, like. A reason he said what he said.”  


“Oh. And you thought I’d, what?”  


“Nico, you’re from the 1940s,” Will sighs exasperatedly. “I thought you’d react, well. I thought you’d react like him.”  


Nico turns slowly and reaches out, cautiously putting his hands on Will’s arms. Will’s quiet, probably shocked by Nico voluntarily touching him. Nico doesn’t think about it. He pulls Will so that they’re facing each other and looks him directly in the eyes.  


“William,” he says, “that is the most insulting thing you’ve ever said to me.”  


Will snorts despite himself.  


“No, no. Really.” Nico’s trying to press this into Will in a way that he accepts it as the truth, and maybe Nico’s trying to press it into himself, too. “Listen. We all have our issues. I don’t know who told you it isn’t okay to be, well, whatever you are. But they messed up. It’s all messed up. I get that.”  


Will looks a little fragile. “Thanks. That, um, means a lot.” He offers a smile, but it quickly turns embarrassed, not bright like it should be. He leans away. “I appreciate you saying that. Honestly.”  


Nico can see him shutting down, and he doesn’t like it. “No. Will. Really. I understand. You can count on me.”  


“Okay. Okay. Thanks. But, listen, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable- around me.” Will pushes at Nico’s hands on his arms. “I get it if this changes things, too. Like, you don’t have to touch me. It’s okay.”  


Nico growls, not letting go completely, letting his grasp slip down to WIll’s hands. “Will. You’re not understanding what I’m saying to you. I’m sharing an epiphany here.”  


“Yeah, but, I’m not going to hold you to everything you just said.” Nico can see the doubt bleeding into Will’s eyes, distorting the events of the past few minutes, diluting the rush he must’ve felt from the adrenaline of punching Neil. He’s stepping back, trying to pull away from Nico’s hands. “I get that you want to help me, I really do. But you don’t have to. I’m - it’s really not worth it.”  


“Will!” Nico takes a decisive step forward, holding Will’s hands tightly, not letting him pull away. “Will, stop being stupid. Listen to what I’m saying.”  


“No, Nico, I just don’t want you to feel obligated-”  


Nico shuts his eyes. “Will, I’m gay and I want to kiss you!”  


Well, he didn’t mean to say that second part. He really, really didn’t. He stares at Will and Will stares at him, both of them frozen.  


“Oh,” Will says. “Okay.”  


“Sorry.” Nico finally drops his hands. “Yeah. So. Um. Now you know.”  


“Yeah.” Will looks awestruck. He stares at Nico like he can’t quite figure out what he’s seeing.  


Nico shuffles his feet. “Are you going to. Comment on that.”  


Will blinks, then grins. “Oh. No. I’m torturing you with silence now.”  


“Yeah, you are, actually.” Nico hates him. “Please stop.”  


“Okay. So. Um, I was just going to say, well, my comment is,” Will swallows, “‘Same’”.  


“‘Same’?”  


“As in, ‘same here’.” Will’s nose is red. “‘Same here’ as in ‘I’m also gay and I want you to kiss me’.”  


“O-Oh.”  


“And ‘same here’ as in ‘please do that now and please keep doing that from now on’.”  


“You just punched a guy,” Nico reminds him shakily. “Everyone’s probably looking for us.”  


“As in, ‘I don’t care’.”  


“This is a bad time. You’re shaking.”  


“As in, ‘That doesn’t matter.’”  


Nico snorts. “Stop extending that metaphor.”  


Will leans in, eyes half-closed. “Make me.”  


“Idiot,” Nico says, and then kisses him.  


Nico’s never kissed anyone before. He doesn’t really know how to do it. But he forgets to worry about that as soon as Will’s lips touch his. Maybe sparks fly, maybe fireworks go off in his gut like the books claim they will. Maybe he’s disintegrated into a pile of bones and ratty clothes. He doesn’t notice. All he can think about is how goddamn warm and soft this feels and how it’s the one thing he’s done in his life that’s felt utterly, completely, fittingly, right.  


It’s over far too soon. He pulls away and looks up into Will’s wide blue eyes, which are staring at him with shock and maybe something else. Will’s smiling, a real smile, small and alive in only the quirk of one side of his mouth. He’s looking at Nico like his entire world is confined to the space between them.  


“Do that again,” Will breathes.  


He does.  


And maybe they’re in trouble, maybe someone’s looking for them, and maybe the world is a hard and dangerous place and maybe it’ll take them years to understand how to fit into it without carrying their pasts like cinderblocks tied to their feet. But that stuff, that’s all for later. For now they’re stupid teenagers, and all that matters is Will pressed against the wall of the pavillion and the flush of red across his nose.  


“This is a really eventful time,” Will says, catching his breath for a moment. “I’m overcome and overwhelmed. I’ve done a lot of stupid things today.”  


Nico smiles. “That’s what you’re supposed to do. The drama, the anger, the stupid decisions. We’re young. It’s practically our right.”  


“Drama and intrigue. Bullying. Gay stuff behind a building. Is this the high school experience I’m missing out on?”  


Nico snorts. “Is that all I am to you? Gay stuff?”  


“Shut up.” Will’s face becomes more serious. “But, actually. I don’t think this was a stupid decision,” he says. “Not any of it.”  


“It’s kind of stupid. It’s inherently stupid.”  


“Shh. I like you, a lot.”  


“See, stupid. Especially because I like you too, Will. Who ever heard of something so ridiculous?”  


Will shakes his head, grinning. He doesn’t make any move to push Nico away. “I’m going to pretend I’m not hurt by the last part of that statement.”  


“Fine. I just like you, then, no stipulations.” Nico says. “Are you happy?”  


Will looks at him. “Yeah. And I’ll be happier every time you say that again.”  


“I like you,” Nico says, kissing him again. He knows it’s disgustingly cute, but he doesn’t care. “I like you, I like you, I like you.”  


“Gay.”  


“Yeah.” Nico thinks he can get used to the word. “Yeah.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!
> 
> again, this is my first ever fanfiction. i feel like it's kind of odd and the pacing's weird, so it's kind of mortifying, but at least i did it. that said, i would absolutely love any kind of feedback on this - i'm trying to get into writing fanfiction as practice for my own original writing, so i really do want to hear any kind of feedback/criticism so i can improve! tell me what you think of the style, the tone, the pacing, how i get my point across, or if you even got the point at all (i think i was trying to say something about words and being young - you tell me). thanks!
> 
> i think it's fitting that my first fic is for this fandom. i actually got into fanfiction because of my unhealthy obsession with nico after he came out. based on my reaction to that whole thing it's really a surprise that it even took me this long to realize i'm gay lmao


End file.
